The Couch
by Sunlight through Leaves
Summary: Some furniture simply has too much history to be thrown out. One-shot. Kakairu.


Old. Threadbare. Uncomfortable. Saggy. Itchy. Ugly. Hideous. Many words had been used to describe The Couch, though any adjective attached to it did nothing to disguise the capital letters verbally inflected on the words. The Couch simply could not be confused with any other piece of furniture as no others bore their type like a proper name.

"We really should get rid of it." Iruka muttered. Holding the corner of one cushion between thumb and forefinger, he inspected each side. Blotches of dried blood too ingrained in both fabric and foam to be removed marred both sides as Kakashi had a nasty habit of sleeping on The Couch whenever he returned from a mission. He'd long since given up hope of finding a clean surface, but was rather debating on which was less nauseating. The underneath side looked to be slightly cleaner, and he replaced the cushion, readjusting the blanket wedged between cushion and arm. The arms had been slowly surrendering over The Couch's lifespan to the inescapable force of gravity. The gap caused by this sagging had likewise increased it's appetite – graduating from change to kunai, to – on one unfortunate occasion – one of Kakashi's dogs. Iruka had never been sure, however, if Kakashi had been more upset when he lost his dog or Icha Icha to the unexplored depths. The blanket was, quite literally, a stop-gap measure employed only after Iruka'd gotten up from sitting with his legs folded underneath him and had almost broken an ankle when his foot plunged into the frame of The Couch.

"I can't believe you would actually suggest such a thing." Kakashi cut in haughtily.

Iruka rolled his eyes at the wounded tone.

"This is an excellent couch."

The patch of blood on the bottom of the middle cushion was still slightly sticky. "It's filthy. It stinks…"

Kakashi perched on the arm, which creaked alarmingly and settled into an angle even closer to parallel with the floor.

"It's falling apart." Iruka continued after Kakashi'd scrambled back onto stable ground. "Really, Kakashi, I think this piece of furniture has seen better days and is well past the necessary age for retirement."

Kakashi swept several stray locks of hair out of Iruka's face as he reached over his shoulder and curled his hand around the nape of his neck. With a light but undeniable force, he pulled Iruka forward until he was leaning against Kakashi's chest and brushed his lips past Iruka's ear. "Maa, Iruka, I would have taken you for the sentimental type."

"Se— sentimental..?" Iruka gasped as his brain struggled to work out Kakashi's buried meaning while said man's breath did unbelievable things to the nerves along the cusp of his ear.

"The first time we slept together was on this couch, right?" The words were punctuated with gentle nips to his earlobe.

"Slept…together….I…." The euphemism penetrated past the haze of desire. "On The Couch? I most certainly did NOT!"

OOOOOOOOO

"Kakashi-sensei!" Iruka sprinted across the rough ground, dropped his bag to the floor and ignored the papers that scattered out across the ground as it hit.

A slowly spreading pool of blood covered the ground under Kakashi's right shoulder. He had made it almost all the way to the village gate before collapsing in the middle of the path scarce feet from the threshold.

"Kakashi-sensei? Can you hear me?" He landed hard on his knees next to Kakashi, unable to tell if he was alive.

A couple of unintelligible sounds answered him. Kakashi was still breathing, but he made no attempt to either roll over or defend himself.

Iruka carefully edged closer, not wanting to startle the former ANBU. A quick glance told him that Kakashi had sustained no injuries on his back. "Kakashi-sensei, it's Iruka-sensei. I'm going to turn you over so I can look at your wounds, okay?" He spoke slowly and calmly. Though he had little experience with Kakashi, he had treated enough injured children to know that any panic or worry betrayed in his voice would only make the situation worse.

A couple of tentative touches to the uninjured shoulder turned into firmer grasps until Iruka was sure he could man-handle Kakashi into a better position without being killed. He stretched across Kakashi, cupped his hands under neck and pectoral, avoiding the open wound, and rolled him onto his back. Kakashi's uniform was soaked around the wound, but Iruka didn't dare pull a kunai to cut away the fabric. He settled for binding it with clean bandages from his waist pouch.

"Alright, Kakashi-sensei, that should hold off the bleeding for a while. We need to move. Do you need me to carry you?"

A negative grumble was enough of an answer.

Iruka looped his arm under Kakashi's and stood slowly, adjusting his weight as Kakashi leaned heavily on his shoulder. They mostly made progress by Iruka dragging him forward with little help from Kakashi, who only managed to move his feet every third or forth step.

When Iruka tried to turn left at the first intersection, Kakashi let out a shuddering breath that carried barely intelligible words. "No— hospital…."

"You're injured, Kakashi-sensei." The response was puzzling. Any jounin should have known better than to ignore a wound. "You need to go to the hospital."

"No…." Kakashi shoved away from Iruka, staggered, grabbed at the nearest wall and stumbled down the road in the opposite direction.

Iruka could see his legs shaking.

"Okay, okay." Iruka chased him down and caught him right before he collapsed. "No hospitals. I'll take you home, but you have to let me treat your injury, alright?"

His head sagged in a semblance of a nod.

"Which way?" With Kakashi's hand pointing him in the right direction, Iruka managed to find the right apartment. He propped Kakashi up against the inside of the door as he tugged off his shoes and searched for light switches. He'd just located the lamp on the table at the end of a hulking shadow that was likely a couch when arms wrapped around his stomach.

Iruka squeaked, blushed, and swallowed. "You really should stay put, Kakashi-sensei. I'm just going to turn on a couple of lights and…" Fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt, freeing it from his waistband and causing his voice to pitch upwards at the end. "What…?"

Kakashi pressed his lips to the back of his ear and then slowly down his neck while his hands crept across the muscles of Iruka's stomach, which jumped in response to the light touch. The bodyweight at Iruka's back forced him deeper into the room.

A corner of Iruka's mind wondered vaguely if Kakashi was checking him for weapons. This injured, Kakashi was likely to be skittish, and he would be at a disadvantage in the dark and unfamiliar room. Fingers tweaked a nipple, quickly derailing those thoughts. "Kakashi— sensei— I…."

The muscles in Kakashi's arm tightened around Iruka's waist, and he pulled him flush to his chest.

Iruka felt the unmistakable lump of an erection pressing up against him. His breath trembled in his lungs. The minute Kakashi began to rub sinfully slowly against him, he forgot how to breathe entirely.

With a last teasing touch, Kakashi's hands abandoned their prior positions and dropped to his hips, spinning Iruka around with more force than the injured man should have been able to muster.

Iruka staggered backwards, trying to escape, but his lower legs caught on something, and he tumbled backwards onto the rough cushions.

Kakashi landed hard on top of him, his knees between Iruka's thighs. The obscenely loud sound of his vest's zipper filled the room, and deft fingers shoved his shirt up to his armpits.

"Ka—kashi— sensei. Please, stop…. I…." Iruka broke off as a hand, gentle despite the cloth and metal glove that covered the majority of the skin, cupped his cheek.

"I just— want to feel— something. Anything." Kakashi breathed above him, voice hoarse, broken and shaking. "Please, Iruka…." He trailed a single finger slowly down over the folds of fabric of Iruka's uniform shirt, down the centerline of his chest, down all the way to the waistband of his pants.

Iruka bucked upwards into the gentle strokes applied across his pant's loose fabric. The feather-light touches only drove up desire and did little to satisfy it. His head pitched backwards and he bit his lip to suppress a keen of wanting. Kisses were scattered along his jaw line before that same talented mouth attached itself to the pulse at the side of his throat and lapped at the sensitive skin.

All at once, Kakashi stopped moving.

A whimper escaped Iruka's throat before he could smother it, and he thrust against the limp fingers several times before managing to transmit the signal to his lower muscles that he needed to stop.

A bone-rattling snore issued from the slack mouth still resting on his throat.

Partially undressed. Completely aroused. Utterly pissed off. "You have GOT to be kidding me!"

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Slept together? I was trying to take care of you, and you molested me, got me rock hard and then fell asleep on me!" Iruka fumed. "And because you were injured, I didn't want to push you off of me and risk aggravating it, so I had to sleep on this damn thing!"

"I don't really understand the problem, Iruka. I was incredibly comfortable that night."

"Of course you were! You were sleeping on me, not on that torture implement masquerading as a couch! And I still stand by the assertion that we have _never_ had sex on that…thing." When Kakashi chuckled at his inflection, Iruka threw his arms up in the air and stomped into the kitchen.

Within seconds, Kakashi had appeared behind him and pressed up against his back. "Maa, I'm terribly sorry for leaving you unsatisfied that night. But I made it up to you in the morning, didn't I? Several times, if I recall correctly."

Iruka would not, under normal circumstances, sleep with someone that he barely knew, but sexual frustration was a wonderful motivator, and Kakashi _had_ gotten him rather wound up the previous night.

"Admit it. You never would have slept with me if we hadn't…" Kakashi let the words trail off suggestively.

A scarlet flush burned across Iruka's cheeks and down his neck, and he knew Kakashi could see it too. That fateful morning several months ago had ensured that Kakashi was all too well acquainted with just how far Iruka's blush could go, which only served to double his embarrassment. "Fine, you can keep The Couch."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Quick one-shot to prove that I am, in fact, not dead ^^

Thanks to Kiterie for beta-ing for me. She took the time to smack me upside the head a couple of times with a dead cod, and hopefully the lessons are starting to sink in. ^^ Enjoy!


End file.
